


A Bloody Mistake

by cathcer1984



Series: Flowers only [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Light Angst, M/M, Parenting Problems, Steter Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathcer1984/pseuds/cathcer1984
Summary: There's an uncomfortable incident at Marlow's school causing Peter and Stiles to delicately tackle some sensitive issues.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Flowers only [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843582
Comments: 11
Kudos: 264
Collections: Steter Week 2020





	A Bloody Mistake

"Honey, I'm home." Stiles calls out as he walks through the front door. He kicks it shut behind him, puts his bag and shoes in the coat cupboard. With socked feet he makes his way through to the kitchen, dining, and playroom area.

Peter is moving from the stove to greet Stiles as he always does at the kitchen threshold. Only instead of a smile and a kiss, Peter has a concerned frown on his face. That's when Stiles glances around and he doesn't see Marlow playing as she usually is.

"Where-"

"In her room." Peter responds grimly. "She's been quiet and out of sorts all afternoon."

"And she's not said anything about why?" Stiles murmurs, he twines his hands around Peter's waist giving his husband some comfort.

Shaking his head, Peter tucks his nose into the juncture of Stiles' neck and shoulder. "She's barely said anything at all. It was a struggle to get her to eat any afternoon tea, love."

"And Mrs Edmundson didn't say anything when you picked her up?"

"Nothing, sweetheart." Peter looks so helpless and it breaks Stiles' heart that he can't ease this burden Peter has put upon himself. He tilts his head forward for a gentle kiss. Peter sinks into it easily.

When they break apart Stiles whispers against Peter's cheek, "and what do your wolfie instincts say?"

"She smells confused, anxious, angry. Scott's already rung, he's sensed her distress down the Pack bonds."

"Oh boy."

"Indeed." There's a hint of a smirk on Peter's lips but he's too worried about their five year old daughter for it to be real.

Reluctantly, Stiles pulls out of his husband's arms. "I'll go have a chat. Listen in?"

"If you want me to." Peter has explained in great detail to Stiles the use of his senses is an enhancement of what humans have. Though he was raised to not abuse them. Yes, he can smell certain chemo signals and body fluids, hear conversations he otherwise wouldn't have but it's never something to use recklessly. Especially with the people you love. Generally, Peter has no qualms eavesdropping but if Stiles asks him not to, then he doesn't.

"I think you should. Come up if you need to, Peter."

"Alright, love."

They share another sweet kiss; Stiles tests his foreheads against Peter’s briefly before pulling away. He takes the stairs two at a time, hovering in the doorway before going into Marlow's room with a rap of knuckles on the door.

"Hey baby girl," Stiles keeps his voice soft. Marlow is lying on her bed staring up at the ceiling. Virginia, the stuffed sheep, tucked under her arm. She doesn't even look at him and Stiles wars between hurt and worry. He sits on the bed next to his daughter, resting a hand on her belly. "No 'hello' hug for Daddy?"

Surprisingly, Marlow bursts into tears. In a second Peter’s into the doorway, sharing a loaded glance with Stiles.

"Oh, my baby, Marlow, Marlow, can daddy hug you?"

Through her sobs she nods her head and Stiles scoops her and Virginia up and onto his lap. She's getting heavy and almost too big for this. Peter is on the bed next to them, he rests a hand against Marlow's back as Stiles rocks her. They stare helplessly at each other while she cries.

Stiles whispers to her as he sobs start to fade. "You're safe, baby girl. Daddy's got you, Papa's here. It's going to be okay. We love you, we love you so much, our baby girl, our little girl. Oh Marlow. Oh baby."

After her tears have calmed she tucks her face into Stiles' chest hiding, from them or the world Stiles doesn't know.

Peter's eyes are fixed on the back of her head. His one hand is resting on her back, fingers tangled in her soft brown curls, the other gripping Stiles' knee hard enough to bruise.

"Billy-" Marlow whispers and then sniffs loudly rubbing her face across Stiles' shirt. He grimaces at the snot she rubs in but keeps his hands gentle as he holds her close. "Billy Maynard said a person can't have two daddies."

"Okay," Stiles catches sight of Peter's murderous expression. He's going to have to remind him later that it's not okay to break your fifteen year murder-free record for a five year old. "And what did you say?"

"I said he was a liar because I have two daddies. And Clyde has two mommies."

"That is true, baby girl. You do have two daddies."

Marlow pulls her face out of his chest to stare up at him. Her cheeks are red, her blue eyes glassy and puffy, snot is smeared across her one cheek. She's as beautiful as ever to Stiles.

"Billy said I'm not really yours cause his daddy is a scientist and told him it isn't possible."

Heart-breaking Stiles hugs Marlow to his chest and Peter joins in. He presses his forehead to Stiles' and an unspoken decision is made.

"Oh, baby girl. Come here," Stiles shifts so he's laying back on the bed and Marlow is lying on his chest, Peter crawls to lie next to them.

Peter leans over to scent Marlow, she giggled wetly as his beard scruffs her neck. "I love you, Miss Marlow. From the day I met you I knew you were mine. Not by blood, but because I chose to love you. Your Daddy too. We chose you and you are our daughter."

"But," Stiles says gently. "We are not your birth parents. They are ..."

"Unable to look after you while you grow up and live your life. So, Daddy and I are doing it instead." Peter's voice is gruff.

Marlow sits up and looks between them. She still looks so confused.

"We're your parents, Marlow. Your real parents but we're not your birth parents. Okay?" Stiles asks and she nods. "We love you though. You're part of our Pack, our family. Marlow May Hale. You're our daughter."

"I love you Daddy." She leans down and gives him a hug, pressing her lips to his in a childish kiss. "I love you Papa," she rolls onto Peter's chest to kiss his beard and hug him tight around the neck.

They lie together until Marlow sits up. "What are we having for dinner Papa?"

"Are you hungry, Marlow?"

"Yeah."

Peter smiles and strokes a hand over her hair. "We're having your favourite. Beef bourguignon and apple pie for pudding."

"With ice cream?"

"Of course, baby girl." Stiles gives her a reassuring smile.

"Thank you Papa." Marlow kisses Peter again, she clambers off him and onto the floor where she sets Virginia down then starts digging through her toy chest. "I'll be down soon for dinner. I just got to do something."

Stiles rolls himself off the bed. "Alright, baby, we'll be in the kitchen if you need us."

"Okay Daddy." Marlow is determined in her digging and Peter climbs off the bed and takes Stiles' hand.

Feeling proud of himself Stiles doesn't break down until they're in the kitchen where she can't hear him. He holds tight onto Peter, and cries against his skin. Peter is equally affected, he stands as still as a statue and his grip is brusingly hard.

"I'm going to talk to Mrs Edmundson in the morning." Peter growls after a few minutes.

"What are you going to say? Billy was right."

"Technically." Peter pulls back to look Stiles in the eye. "It is not the place of a child to tell Marlow or Clyde. And what about Jiyang? He's Chinese and his parents are white. He's as adopted as Marlow. If Billy didn't see fit to inform him, then he's merely parroting homophobic language and not actual science."

"Peter, he's a kid."

"Then he's young enough to learn."

"And Billy's dad? Mrs Edmundson?"

"Old enough to know better."

Stiles can't hide his amusement, "and if they don't?"

"Then I'll teach them myself," his eyes flash and Stiles feels his claws pricking at his shirt.

Unable and unwilling to resist himself Stiles kisses Peter deeply. "I love how protective you are of our pup."

"Because she's ours." Peter explains as if it's that simple and really it is. "She's coming down."

"I'll go wash up." Stiles hugs Peter hard and fast before ducking into the downstairs bathroom to wash his face of his own dried tears. When he comes out Peter has the tea towel over his shoulder hiding the wet patch Stiles had made while Marlow is holding a piece of her art paper in her hand. “What have you got there, baby?” Stiles is conscious to run a hand over her head, spreading his scent as best he can. 

She proudly holds up a hastily drawn picture. It’s two odd figures all drawn in green crayon. They both have heads, dots for eyes and wide smiling mouths, arms come straight off the neck next to the body and it splits into a pair of legs on each figure. One has long hair and there’s an odd triangle shape behind both.

“It’s my mom and dad. The birth ones.” 

Stiles feels his heart stop and he swallows thickly. 

“Oh?” Peter’s tone is soft and he comes to crouch in front of their daughter. “Tell me about them.” 

“They’re superheroes Papa. See the capes.” Marlow shoves the picture so close to Peter’s face that his nose touches the paper. “Obviously they lost to the bad guy and they have to hide. ‘Cause they can’t look after me so they let you do it. Because Papa is a werewolf so _clearly_ he can protect me and Daddy is a police detet-ive so he knows when the bad guy is coming.” There’s a very ‘duh’ sense to her tone. Stiles finds himself nodding seriously, eyebrows rising in agreement and surprise. 

In a way he’s kind of impressed, Marlow rambles on about this world she’s created in her head as the reason why her birth parents aren’t looking after her. She re-enacts the fight with her hands and sound effects. He’s not buying it, because he knows the truth, but he’s so pleased with her level of detail in her imagination. 

Peter’s focused on her just as earnestly as Stiles is. She revels in the attention, repeating herself and going over the story which changes and gets more elaborate the more she tells it. Though the core elements of her birth parents as superheroes that lost to the bad guy remain the same. 

In the middle of a sentence Peter just pulls her in for a hug. “That’s quite a story, darling. Shall we pop your picture up on the fridge?” 

“Yes, I’ll get my step.” Marlow presses the paper into Peter’s hand as she runs to get the step she needs to reach. 

Peter turns his attention to Stiles, as he murmurs, “she’s not far off.” 

When Stiles thinks about it he supposes she’s not. Her parents were supernatural and lost to the bad guy, only the reality is a lot more violent.

*

True to his word Peter speaks to Mrs Edmundson, and she apologises for Billy and assures him, Peter tells Stiles when they’re in bed, that she’ll talk to his father and she’ll even talk to the class about the different types of families there are. 

Only it doesn’t go well at all. 

Friday is Stiles’ day to pick Marlow up from school while Peter does some work. After Marlow was three and started day-care Peter had gotten into trading antiques. Friday after dropping Marlow off became his day to go out to the dealers and find things to put on his website. He’s good at what he does, chooses things he likes and they sell well. Stiles is proud of him. 

When Stiles gets to Marlow’s classroom she’s angry and in the midst of a temper tantrum. Mrs Edmundson is flustered and the parents waiting outside are curious as they stare into the classroom as a little girl screams and throws things to the floor.  
Stiles has never seen his daughter like this before. He ignores the rules and strides into the room dropping to his next to Marlow. She flings herself into his arms and sobs into his shoulder. “Baby girl, what’s happened?” 

“Now Mister Hale, you know the rules-” Mrs Edmundson starts but Stiles just glares at her, impassively raising an eyebrow. 

“She’s mean!” Marlow cries loudly. “I can’t see my mom and dad. They’re in hiding.” 

The bell rings and Mrs Edmundson gathers the rest of the class, all eight of them, and sends them away with their parents. Stiles stays as he is with his daughter wrapped in his arms, when she pulls away Stiles wipes her cheeks with his palms. “Tell me what’s going on, baby girl.” 

Marlow goes to her bag and pulls out a piece of paper. She glares at her teacher as she hands it to Stiles. He looks at it. It’s the outline of a tree with a box at the bottom of the trunk saying ‘me’ and two boxes from that with ‘my mom’ and ‘my dad’ and a row of four boxes above that. It’s a family tree. 

“Marlow, baby, why don’t you go and wash your face?” Stiles suggests kindly and she skips out the door to the bathroom. Rising to his feet, Stiles looks impassively at Mrs Edmundson. “Care to explain this?”

“It’s a weekend homework assignment. For the children to do their family trees.” 

“It’s rather heteronormative. My _husband_ spoke to you about this on Tuesday.”

“Yes, Mister Hale did. I spoke to the class today about the different family situations in the world and in our own classroom. One child is adopted, like Marlow, and has contact with their birth parents.” 

“That’s not possible with Marlow. You’ve put ideas into her head.” 

Mrs Edmundson squares her shoulders. “I just let her know it can happen.” 

“Her birth parents were blown up in a car bomb,” Stiles snarls. He gets an odd rush of satisfaction when she pales. “It is our job to tell our daughter about her birth family when we choose. She is too young to understand it right now, she was four months old when we adopted her and now she’s created fantastical ideas in her head to cope with comments from fucking Billy Maynard.” 

“Now Mister Hale-”

“It’s Detective.” Stiles sneers, “Detective Hale, not Mister.”  
Marlow appears in the doorway. 

“Get your bag, baby girl. We’re going now.” 

“Okay Daddy.” She’s still angry, but mostly she’s confused. 

Stiles takes a deep breath and calms himself. “Before we go, do you want to do this homework? Because if you don’t Marlow, we won’t.”

“I’ll get in trouble.” 

“No, you won’t.” Stiles says and he glares at Mrs Edmundson until she agrees with him. 

“I want to put you and Papa on it. And Gramp-pa and Abuela.” 

“We can do that, baby girl.” He holds his hand out and she takes it. Together they walk from the classroom. “How about we give Papa a ring in the car and see if he wants to join us for a special afternoon tea at that cafe he likes so much?” 

“Yes please.”

*

That night when Stiles tells Peter what happens his husband is furious. 

“I’ll kill the bitch.” 

“No, you won’t.” Stiles grins. 

Peter snarls and lets his wolf out. It turns Stiles on more than it scares him. “I can. You know I can kill her.”

“I know, Peter. You’re a big bad murdering machine.”

“You’re mocking me.” 

Stiles straddles Peter’s lap and runs his thumbs over the ridges of Peter’s forehead until it fades into human. “No, Peter, I’m just not going to let you break your fifteen year record. You’re like rehabilitated, you’re even a functioning member of society now. There’s no need to make a bloody mistake over-”

“Daddy? Papa?” Marlow asks from the doorway. Stiles sees the smirk on Peter’s face, bastard had heard her coming. 

“What is it Marlow?” Peter asks. 

She’s clutching Virginia to her chest, her little face full of worry. She doesn’t say anything though. Stiles gets off Peter’s lap and holds the covers up for her, she runs and ducks under them hiding her face. 

“One night, okay?” Peter says from behind Stiles, his arm coming across Stiles’ waist to rest on Marlow’s hair. 

“Okay Papa. I love you.” 

“Love you too, Marlow.” Peter whispers, “and I love you,” he kisses the back of Stiles’ neck. 

“I love you both, very much.” Stiles responds as he holds his daughter, and the stuffed sheep, to his chest while Peter is a line of heat against his back. 

Just when he thinks Marlow is asleep, she pipes up, “what’s a bloody mistake?” 

Peter sniggers against Stiles’ neck. “Well, it’s just a mistake but it’s a big one that makes a grown up say ‘bloody hell’ which is a swear word.”

“And only Papa makes them?”

“Yep.” Stiles smirks, and Peter pokes him in the side making him jolt. 

“Is that cause Papa’s the grown up, grown up and you’re just a grown-up Daddy?” 

Peter is full on cackling now. “Dude, she just called you old.” Stiles grumbles. He smooths Marlow’s hair from her face and kisses her forehead. “Yeah, baby girl. Now, enough talking, get some sleep.” 

She huddles down and soon her breathing evens out and Stiles just watches her sleep for a moment. Peter shifts so he can see her too, cheek resting on Stiles’ temple. 

*

On Saturday they do the stupid family tree homework. Stiles gives Marlow some photographs to cut out so she can stick them in the boxes. She’s proudly scribbled out ‘my mom’ and ‘my dad’ and written ‘Daddy’ and ‘Papa’. 

Peter prints off pictures of his parents for her to use. They get the standard grandpa and grandma, while she changes it to ‘Gramp-pa’ and ‘Abuela’ for Stiles’ dad and Melissa. “Can we see Gramp-pa and Abuela today?” 

“Tomorrow, baby girl. Today, Daddy’s going to make something for Papa. Do you want to help?” 

“Yeah!” Marlow shouts. 

“Go and get your shoes, baby. We’ve got some supplies to get. Papa’s going to do some work so we can do this as a surprise okay?” 

“Okay, Daddy.” Marlow skips off to get her shoes. 

Peter comes out of his office as Stiles tugs on his coat. “Where are you off to?” 

“Just out.” Stiles replies with a smirk. 

“We’re making you a surprise, Papa.” 

“Oh?” Peter’s eyebrows rise and he glances between the two of them. “Alright. I’ll stay in my office until you tell me it’s okay to come out. Have fun,” he kisses Stiles and then Marlow. 

“Bye Papa.” Marlow runs for the door. “Come on Daddy.” 

*

Three hours later Marlow is knocking on Peter’s office door. “You can come and see your surprise Papa!” 

He opens it instantly and Marlow takes his hand. “Close your eyes,” Marlow instructs and Peter does, letting her guide him to the kitchen. 

Stiles stands by the wall where they’ve hung it up. He’s smirking and avidly watching Peter’s face when he opens his okay after Marlow tells him too. There’s a pleasant look of surprise that morphs into disbelief then he laughs, that head back, mouth wide, full bodied laugh that Stiles adores. 

“Do you like it Papa?” 

Picking Marlow up Peter approaches the wall, he leans in to kiss Stiles firmly. “You’re a menace.” 

“Look Papa,” Marlow points, “I painted the outside green cause it’s my favourite colour. But I made the squares red.” 

On the wall is a lumpy-painted green board, inside are two red frames around two rectangular chalkboards. Stiles has written 54 on one board and 75 on another, 5475, underneath are the words _days since Peter’s last bloody mistake_. 

“Do we need to wipe it clean?” Stiles asks teasingly. 

“I think so.” Marlow replies and Peter looks at her in surprise. 

“Really?” Stiles laughs at the look on Peter’s face.

“Yes Papa. I’m afraid so. You overcooked the pasta last night and that was a bloody mistake.” Marlow answers seriously

Stiles cackles and Peter is biting his lip to hide a smile. “Okay, Marlow. Go and get the eraser.” He pins Stiles to the wall after setting Marlow down and she’s run off. “You’re a menace.” 

“You love me.” 

“Oh I know.” Peter kisses him deeply, Stiles tangles his fingers in Peter’s hair. 

With a serious tone, Stiles says lowly “you know if you ever did break that record I’d-”

“Have to arrest me, I know, I know.” 

“I’d help you hide the body.” Stiles corrects. 

Peter stares at him in disbelief, head tilted and Stiles knows his heartbeat is steady because he’s telling the truth. Peter surges forward to kiss him desperately. 

“Papa, I got the eraser and the chalk.” Marlow says from behind them. She’s holding them up in her hands. 

Reluctantly Peter pulls away, after pressing another peck to Stiles’ lips, “we’ll finish this later.” 

“Yes please.” Stiles grins at his husband, then turns to Marlow, “you want to do the honours?” 

“Yep.” Marlow lets Peter pick her up and hold her close so she can rub out the numbers and write a 0 and 1 in them. “There you go Papa.” 

“Thank you, darling.” 

Stiles watches them with a smile on his face. He thinks about the phone call he’d had yesterday while at work from Chris Argent. Soon, he’ll tell Peter and then they can talk to Marlow but he’s got a feeling they’ll both say yes to extending their family to the little werewolf girl, Amelia Harrison, Chris’ Hunter buddies had found in the woods. It’s fate, Stiles thinks, Peter won’t ever get his wife or his son back but he’s got his husband and soon he’ll have two daughters to dote on.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr](https://cathcer1984.tumblr.com/)


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